The Raven and the Bat
by Galaxystar of SolarClan
Summary: Cliche Harry goes to Azkaban story. Ashling Potter has been sentenced to Azkaban for crimes she didn't commit. When she's released everything can go back to normal right? wrong. This is my first fanfic, so I'm not sure what I'm doing. Any advice is welcome! Female harry, creature harry and animagus harry. Pairing is Fem!Harry/Snape
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **This is my first fanfiction so I don't really know what I am doing, so please tell me if this chapter is too short or too long and feel free to leave suggestions. Also, updates will most likely become less frequent after Summer because I will be attending a boarding school next year. That's all I will say for now.**

Galaxystar of SolarClan

 _ **Incantations**_

 _Thoughts_

~Flashback/Dream~

Ashling Potter was huddled in a corner of her cell, her big eyes, once filled with happiness were dull, her hair was a tangled mess, and she was literally skin and bones. The only feature that didn't look dreary were the Fae wings that sprouted from her back on her seventeenth birthday. They were a radiant emerald green like her eyes used to be with some streaks of silver and black. As a Dementor swooped by, she shuddered as she relived the day her world had fallen apart.

~ Flashback ~

"Ashling Lillian Winter Potter, you are hereby condemned to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban for the murder of Cedric Diggory, Bathilda Bagshot, Stanley Shunpike, Rosemerta Summers and 9 unidentified muggles."

Ashling had expected this when she plead not guilty, but she had not expected to be refused questioning under Veritaserum. Professor Snape had tried to convince Fudge to use Veritaserum, but he had threatened him with the Dementors' Kiss. Snape gave up trying after that, but Ashling still thanked him in her mind for trying when Ron, Hermione and hell, even Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus had believed she was guilty. She vaguely registered that Ron and Sirius were shouting at her, she tilted her head and listened to what they were saying: "HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU MURDER ALL THOSE INNOCENT PEOPLE? YOU DESERVED ALL THOSE BEATINGS FROM YOU'RE UNCLE, AND YOU DESERVE GOING TO THAT HELL! YOU'RE DEAD TO ME, ASHLING POTTER!" "YOU ARE MY GODDAUGHTER NO LONGER!" She had expected to feel pain when Ron spoke (more like spat out) her full name, as he and Hermione had always just called her Ash or Ashley and when Sirius declared she was no longer his Goddaughter. But she felt nothing.

As an Auror placed shackles on her wrists and ankles, she felt hysteria bubbling up inside of her. She started laughing, laughing at the irony of it all. The wizarding worlds' darling savior, condemned to the hell that held the Dark Lords' followers, accused of assisting the one that she herself had faced and defeated three times over, the one that had killed her parents! She laughed at the thought of her ever thinking of the Weasels and the Mudblood as her friends. Sure, they had cheered her up during her four years at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they had tried to tell her she wasn't a freak, that she wasn't worthless despite the words branded on the insides of her forearms and the scars that marred her deathly pale skin. But here they were, kicking her when she was down, rubbing salt into her wounds.

She laughed when they pushed her roughly onto the creaky old boat and chained her down, she laughed when they prodded her through the hallways of Azkaban. The other prisoners laughed as well, as if they were wolves, answering one of the packs' howls. She laughed when she was shoved into a maximum security cell, and for hours on end, giggled and clawed at her eyes. At some point, she saw the image of her parents smiling at her. The last thing she saw before she fell into oblivion was a silver raven.

~ Flashback end ~

That had been four years ago. Three years, ten months ago she stopped feeling any emotion. Around that same time the human guards had started taunting and beating her. Two years ago she had a dream where she glided and swooped around with a bat that resembled a certain Professor. She had woken up as a raven with obsidian black feathers that time. One year, seven months ago she managed to transform at will, becoming an animagus.

She let out a breath and closed her eyes, not knowing that outside the walls of this hell that held her the wizarding world was in uproar over the fact that the Girl-Who-Lived was innocent.

Severus had only felt disbelief when Dumbledore told him that Ashling Potter was responsible for the murder of 4 wizards and 9 muggles. He remembered the energetic girl that often ran down the Hogwarts halls with a carefree grace, the defiant student that protested every time he bullied Longbottom in his classes and defended Weasley and Granger even if it meant a week's worth of detentions. Lily's daughter, who tried to see the good in everyone around her and argued that he himself was just misunderstood. He simply couldn't picture Potter killing someone other than The Dark Lord. The whole damned school felt too empty without her.

Now he was sitting on the pathetic excuse for a boat that brought prisoners to Azkaban with Weasley, Granger, Dumbledore, Black, Lupin, Skeeter and the blustering idiot Fudge. The bloody annoying twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was gone and he was looking sorrowfully at a spot on the horizon, Granger was sobbing and blubbering about how she oh so hoped that Potter would forgive them. He highly doubted it. Weasley seemed to be reliving the end of Potter's trial, when he had burned the bridge between them. Black and Lupin were silent, wallowing in guilt and self-pity. Fudge was clutching onto his hideous lime green bowler hat while Skeeter was excitedly readying her camera and Quick-Quotes-Quill. Was she so dim-witted that she thought she would be able to interview Potter after she had been in Azkaban for four years?

The boat arrived at a dock that was recently built on Azkaban island and they all got off, one by one. Severus could feel the Dementors' presence as they walked into the crumbling building and walked up the endless stairs. There was only one cell on the topmost floor.

Potter was sprawled on the floor in the centre of the cell. Her hair flared out around her face like a halo, she looked like a corpse with her sunken eye sockets and pale skin that clung onto her skeleton. He noted with surprise the emerald green wings that sprouted from her back. Severus thought that even when she was starved and covered in scars, she was beautiful. He quickly shook his head to get rid of the thought. Where had it even come from? Skeeter quickly took a picture of Potter, and attempted a close up on the Fae wings. But upon seeing the flash of the camera, Potter gave an unearthly shriek, jumped up and promptly collapsed into a heap on the floor. She curled up and started rocking back and forth whilst softly chanting something, Severus thought he could hear the words "blood of the enemy" and assumed she was reliving whatever had happened during the Third Task of the Triwizard tournament. The haunted look in her eyes as she whimpered out something unintelligible stirred memories of his own childhood, and he heard Granger's sobs increase in volume before she calmed down and stuttered "May-maybe Professor Snape could, um, use Legilimency on Ashley to see if-if" at this point Granger looked like she would start crying a flood "if, um, she is insa-insane?" Dumbledore and Fudge nodded, both probably wanting to know if Potter was sane or not.

" _Legilimens_ " Her mind was filled with flashes of memories, all swirling around in a cyclone of silver-gray strands, there seemed to be silhouettes of people, all shouting. Severus realized that at some point the silhouettes would start shouting different things, first they were showering the Girl-Who-Lived with praise, next they were claiming she was the Heir of Slytherin, a mass murderer who would become the next Dark Lady. The mass of gray was swirling around one silhouette in particular, he realized that this was Potter. She stood stock-still and it seemed to him that she felt nothing, no emotion. Just as he was pulled from her mind, he saw a raven with emerald green eyes-the same raven from his dream two years ago.

Hermione was so worried that Ashley was insane, she just couldn't believe she had betrayed her first friend, her best friend like she did! She had been weeping almost nonstop since a captured Death Eater bragged about You-Know-Who framing Ashley.

Hermione looked over at Ron, he looked shocked and was probably trying to summon up the courage to apologize to Ashley. Sirius and Professor Lupin were silent the entire way here, and both looked like they wanted to fling themselves at Ash but were also afraid for her sanity. At that moment, Professor Snape came out of Ashley's mind. "She is insane, but not completely. She may be unable to recognize any of us and might experience flashbacks. She also seems to be unable to experience emotions"

Sirius and Professor Lupin looked shocked then Sirius whispered "Ashley won't be able to recognize us?" "Yes, I have just said so. Are you so incompetent that you are not able to comprehend my words?" "No one asked you, Snivellius" Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore interrupted "Enough! Sirius, Severus you two fighting will not help Ashley, we will bring her to The Burrow to rest." Hermione looked over at Ashley, or what was left of Ashley. When had her eyes become so dull and desolate? She would get better under Mrs. Weasley's care, wouldn't she?

Hermione almost burst into tears again when she had to help Ashley walk. Surprisingly, Professor Snape helped her and Ashley. "Didn't those two hate each other?" Hermione wondered "Why would he even help Ashley? Now that I think of it, why did he even agree to come?" As usual, the Potion Master's face revealed nothing, but Hermione kept watch for anything that might possibly answer the questions buzzing around in her brain.

She looked back at Ashley and was forcefully reminded of all the times the two of them had raced each other down the halls to the library, ducking and swerving to avoid running into people and then skidding to a halt right before they ran into the door and trying to contain giggles while at the same time avoiding Madame Pince's piercing glare. When they were sure that the strict librarian was out of earshot they would collapse and laugh (quietly, for fear that someone would hear them) until they both had cramps, then they would study together until the crazy old bat kicked them out or one of them became too drowsy to continue studying. Whichever came first.

She struggled to keep the floodgates closed as she realized that they would never do that again, never squabble over ridiculous things like whether robes and cloaks were different only to end up in a staring contest, then both of them erupting into laughter while a confused Ron looked between them scratching his head. She remembered them poking fun at Ron while he struggled with his Divination homework and the girls breezed through their Arithmancy worksheets, swiping chocolate frogs from the towering pile of Honeyduke's sweets they had dumped on the table.

The group all let their shoulders slump as they walked out of the gates of Azkaban. Hermione was pulled from her musings as Professor Dumbledore announced that they would get back to the burrow by Portkey to avoid the reporters. However, when Ashley registered the word "Portkey" she immediately let out a cry "CEDRIC! NO! CEDRIC COME BACK! Here, just please grab the cup-the portkey-" Hermione saw, out of the corner of her eye Rita Skeeter talking to her Quick-Quotes-Quill before Ashley started randomly shooting wandless spells in a panic. "Somebody stun her!" Hermione shouted as she barely dodged a powerful _**Reducto**_. Professor Dumbledore quickly shot a weak _ **Stupefy**_ and they all grabbed hold of the Portkey.

I wake up and look around. Somehow I know that that was the first time in years I have slept peacefully. There's a red haired woman fussing over me. She's a bit plump, and has a face full of freckles but her chocolate brown eyes are warm. She looks like she has been crying a lot, her clothes are wrinkled and I can see where the tears have fallen, when she checks my temperature I notice her hands are cold. I can tell she is stressed, but something holds me back, stops me from comforting her. Who is she? Why do I feel like I know her? I feel like I should be panicking. But I feel nothing. I vaguely remember a woman telling me to start with basic facts and then start comprehending what is going on around me. She has blue eyes that are the colour of the afternoon sky, gray hair and a kind smile. I can see concern in her eyes and also an urge to protect, she is tensed slightly, with a white wand raised like she expects me to jump out of the bed. I think she's a mediwitch or matron of sorts from the robes she wears.

 _Come on, Ashling. Don't think about your problems. There, see? You know your first name now. Just breathe, relax. What's your full name? Ah, my name is Ashling Lillian Winter Potter. I am eighteen years old. My parents are Lillian Potter nee Evans and James Potter. My mother was adopted from the Diviniuse family. A Fae family. I am a pure blooded witch and a Raven animagus._

I'm pulled from my thoughts when the woman asks how I'm doing. When I tell her I can't remember much tears fill her eyes. She gives me a tray of food and tell me to eat. _Why not?_ I do so. When I'm done she hands me some Nourishment Potions and Skele-Gro. After I down them she tells me to sleep so that the potions can do their work.

~Dream~

I'm at the edge of a deep, dark forest in my animagus form. There is a very familiar castle some distance away, there is also a cabin besides a huge lake. The water reflects the stars in the night sky and I recognize a few of the Constellations. There's a familiar bat flying around the lake. I think I have seen him before. He lands a bit clumsily on a branch close by. " _Smooth landing"_ I call out in my mind. The bat gives me a dirty look as if he can hear me. " _Let's see you try that, if you are such an expert flier"_ he sneers. It's like second nature to me. I launch myself off of the branch I was on and do a few loops before landing gracefully on my original perch and giving him a smug look. He mentally sighs and mutters something about pots and blood. Potter blood? " _Fly with me"_ I say to him. " _Why not, I have nothing better to do"_ He replies. The rest of the night is spent swooping around in a comfortable silence

~Dream ends~

Ashling means "Beautiful Dream"

"Diviniuse" comes from "Divinus" which is apparently "Blessed" in Latin (correct me if I'm wrong)

In this fic, you can use Legilimency in animagus form

Please review and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Helluuu, here is the second chapter of The Raven and the Bat!**

 **Right now I'm not sure how this story will end, so please tell me how you imagine it ending, it would help a lot. Also, updates won't be regular, I have to help out with a drama production at school and I have my extracurricular activities and homework. Sorry about forgetting the disclaimer in the last chapter, I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Galaxystar of Solarclan**

 _ **Incantations**_

 _Thoughts_

Book Titles

~Flashback/Dream~

Another random item in the box filled with what looked like unfinished projects explodes causing me to sigh. I steady the box, which looks ready to fall of the twin bed on the other side of the room. I'm not sure how much time has passed, maybe months, perhaps weeks or a year or two. I wouldn't know. The redheaded woman, Molly, she said her name was, keeps trying to make me eat at least four or five helpings each meal. I have noticed that I am way too skinny but are four helpings necessary? And what happened to make me lose my memory and become malnourished? _Ah, look, Molly's here again._ "Ashling, dear can you hear me?" I nod. "Great. We are going to move to the Order's headquarters today. We'll let you meet your best friends and then reintroduce you to everyone at dinner. Now I will take you to Diagon Alley to replace your things. You will probably need a new wand if the holly wood has rejected you." _Replace my things. So whatever happened to me resulted in my possessions being destroyed as well? Perhaps wherever I once lived was destroyed. Interesting. And why does she look guilty? She's fidgeting._ "Okay" I reply softly and she smiles. _Is that relief I see in her eyes?_

I've forgotten how beautiful the trees, the grass, the flowers are. I know that before losing my memory I have taken these things for granted. The birds chirp to each other quite happily while squirrels and rabbits scamper around. There is a lazily flowing river nearby that flows towards a village downhill and by a mountain with a peculiar circular shaped house on the top (The Lovegoods) that is covered in ivy. The shade of blue is mesmerizing. I'm instantly a little more relaxed when nature embraces me. I revere in the feel of the grass tickling my ankles and the light breeze in my hair. I take a moment to stow away this memory so that I can never forget it. After all, life is tragically short and I'm never letting go of the memories I can make. The good, the bad and the ugly.

Diagon Alley is bustling with people all chatting excitedly to each other. They all seem so carefree. It's very loud and bright. Children weave between people's legs, tripping someone on occasion with their parents struggling to keep up with bags full of purchases. _Really, do people even read? The incantation for the shrinking charm is not that hard!_ I recall a teacher asking us about our favorite colours. I had replied green, silver and black. Silver, I felt was far more elegant than Gold. Gold was too bright, I hated colours that were too bright. Green was the colour I saw in my earliest memory. The green light felt deadly, but it was also fascinating, mesmerizing. I decided I liked green when I first looked in the mirror at age 4 and saw that my eyes were the same colour. Black was the colour I associated with darkness. I loved darkness, it was peaceful.

We stop in front of Flourish and Blott's. I remember the place, but I don't know where I remember it from. Molly tells me to find anything of my interest while she goes to get me textbooks so I can catch up with my studies. She's told me I can prepare for as long as I want then take my OWL's and NEWT's at the Ministry. I take Occlumency and Legilimency: A guide for beginners by Cassandra Souvmarche, Transfiguration in Combat by Henrietta Slinkhard, Life-saving charms for witches and wizards by Matilda Watson and many more books on potions, mind magic, transfiguration and various other magics. I pay for the books with a gringotts card that apparently Molly's eldest child provided us with.

We decide to go to Madame Malkin's next. Madame Malkin showers me with compliments on my figure and fair skin. I look in the mirror. I have filled out a bit and I don't look quite so skinny from all of Molly's cooking and the nourishment potions and my waist length hair has been fixed with various hair potions and a few muggle remedies. It isn't messy and untameable like it was before (according to Molly) and now is neat and straight with a slight curl at the ends. Even so I still don't see anything remarkable about myself, though the bubbly seamstress certainly does. She puts me in everything from robes, dresses, skirts and muggle clothing. We end up buying a full wardrobe of robes, muggle dresses and casual wear in different shades of colours mainly consisting of blue, purple, silver, white and green.

After buying other necessities including a trunk with feather-weight and shrinking charms as well as several different compartments we go to Ollivander's. Whatever happened to me, it seems to have changed me so that the holly in my wand has rejected me but the phoenix feather that makes up the core still accepts me. He isn't known for it, but Ollivander can still make custom wands if a witch or wizard has found a wood or core that has accepted them.

"Ah, Miss Potter. Back again, I see? No doubt you will need a new wand. I find that Holly wands rarely choose a wizard or witch with creature blood." Somehow I know that the wandmaker still looks like he did seven years ago, silver misty eyes, slightly shabby robes and the same silver hair. "Yes, but the Phoenix feather still accepts me." I say. He nods absently in reply "Come with me, miss Potter. I have various wands and cores in the back." Molly gives me a nod of encouragement, and I step into the back of the store.

The workshop is quite messy, parchments, measuring tapes and quills are everywhere. The only section that doesn't look like a tornado lifted up the shop is filled with shelves of woods and cores. I feel several pulls on my magic, but the strongest ones seem to come from a crystal in an elegant indigo colour, a vial of what seems to be Basilisk venom and a length of light hazel wood, 13 inches long with intricately carved cherry blossoms on the handle. I put my hand over both the crystal, venom and the wood, feeling them buzzing with excitement. "Ah, Sakura wood, a reminder that life is devastatingly beautiful yet lamentably short. Quite fitting, I see the Fae crystal has chosen you as well. I have been holding on to that crystal for almost as long as I am able to remember. The wand that it was once a part of has sadly been destroyed in the battle that took its owner's life. She was a greatly respected figure in the Fae world. I suspect the Basilisk venom is connected to the events of your second year at Hogwarts." _Hmm, better look into that_ I'm handed a knife inscribed with runes and tells me to drop some blood into the vial of venom, and to fit the wood, phoenix feather and crystal together and pour the contents of the vial onto them. I watch as the crystal, phoenix feather, blood and venom all merge together and fit themselves into the length of Sakura wood. There is a bright flash and my new wand zooms into my hand and shoots out a ribbon that matches the colour of my wings and eyes. After thanking Ollivander and paying 15 galleons for the wand Molly and I depart the shop and Diagon Alley.

Hermione was panicking even more than the day before she and Ron received their NEWT scores and that was saying something. She had almost gotten herself sick in anticipation that day. But wondering if her best friend would recognize herself and her crush (not that she would admit it) was so much, so much worse. This time, she actually got herself sick with dread and anticipation and was worrying so much that she didn't even realize that she was failing spectacularly at the levitation charm-a first year charm! Ron and the twins were trying halfheartedly (and failing) to lift the mood a bit at the kitchen table where The Order of the Phoenix was seated. For once even Professor Snape and Sirius weren't arguing. "Hermione, it's _**Win-gar-dium Levi-o-sa**_ , make the 'Gar' nice and long." Ron was attempting a joke again, and Hermione smiled a bit at his sweetness. But he only succeeded in reminding her of the time Ashley had saved her with that very same charm from the troll in their first year.

Hermione sighed. Tentativley, she asked "Did anyone um, believe Ashley didn't put her name in the Goblet of Fire or murder all those people? She might be more accepting of them…" She trailed off, unsure of herself. Professor Dumbledore smiled at her "That is an excellent idea, Hermione. I know that Severus believes Ashley to be innocent in both cases." He twinkled at said person, who scowled at anyone who looked at him. Tonks spoke up "I believed her, and maybe she should meet the people she hasn't met first because we won't stir memories." Hermione nodded, feeling like she could breathe a little easier.

When Mrs. Weasley came in with Ashley, she led to poor girl to the room where Hermione and Tonks were staying, so she could get re-acquainted with Ron and herself. Tonks wouldn't be there since she was needed at the Order meeting. Ashley walked in casually-somehow completely at ease with the dark magic hanging in the air of Number twelve, Grimmuald Place. _Come on, where's your Gryffindor bravery?_ Hermione thought to herself as she worked up the nerve to say hi. Thankfully, Ron blurted out "Ash, mate we missed you!" Hermione shot him a look that clearly said "Really?" Ashley hid her face behind her bangs "I'm so, so sorry but… I don't remember you." There was a tense moment then Ron said "Really? Can't you remember even the tiniest thing? Uh, we-that is-me and 'Mione can help you with little things you do remember… Right?" She quickly said "What Ron means is that we will tell you the stories behind any fragments you may remember." Ashley smiled gratefully "Okay, maybe we can sit down and I will tell you what I can remember."

Ashley gingerly perched herself on the edge of Hermione's bed and started "I remember a voice. Shrill, high and squeaky, telling me to do a list of chores. It's three pages but that's normal. She's blonde, I think." There was a pause. "Looked like a horse." Ron snickered and told her "That's your sad excuse for an aunt. Aunt giraffe-neck makes you do a really long list of chores every day. If you weren't finished by the time the family of little shits got back home you were beaten. Oh, yeah you were also starved." Hermione winced at his bluntness and his language and said as gently as she could "Your Uncle Vernon abused you, up until your Hogwarts letter came you lived in the cupboard under the stairs. In the new room, bars were put on the window and you were chained to the bed." Ashley's forehead creased. "Hogwarts… I met you two on a train." Ron and her exchanged excited and relieved grins. By the time Mrs. Weasley called them down to dinner Ashley remembered most of her home life (not that there was much to remember) and could vaguely recognize most of the people she had met. They would leave the end-of-year adventures until later but it was a start. There was still hope.

Dumbledore had asked Severus once again what The Dark Lord was planning, and he had once again answered that The Dark Lord was waiting for a time when trust in the Ministry's pathetic "protections" was wavering to launch a bigger raid. Then the Skeeter cow and other reporters could write their articles and instill fear into the wizarding world. The old coot then asked other members of the Order to give their respective reports. He stopped listening to Flitwick's squeaky voice mid-way through a report/rant on whatever the sodding hell the Goblins were up to. Severus didn't really care, but then again he cared for very little things in life. With nothing else to do, he thought back to when he had discovered that there was more to Ashling Lillian Winter Potter than met the eye.

~Flashback~

The last lesson of the day was with the fourth year Lions and Snakes. He had no desire to watch Potter and Weasley argue silently while messing up the potions assignment for the day or Longbottom spilling his potion and corroding the desktop. He took great pleasure in knocking Potters satchel to the ground as he swept by and watching her scramble to pick up all the parchments and books and drop her knife on her foot in doing so. Unsurprisingly, Longbottom had melted his cauldron yet again and was sent to the medical wing with orange boils and purple skin where the potion had touched it. Weasley had not cut his roots into equal pieces and as a result his own very off-colour concoction exploded in his face giving him the same orange boils as Longbottom. Surprisingly, Potter's potion was good enough to get an Exceeds Expectations. After the dreaded class ended, before he made his way to his quarters Severus noticed a thin black book with the name A. L. W. Potter on it in silver. He used _**Accio**_ on it and placed it in his own satchel.

In his quarters, he opened up the book. It had a featherweight charm and another charm placed on it so that there would be infinite pages and if you put a piece of parchment between the pages, it would become a page itself. The book seemed to be a cross between a notebook and a sketchbook. The notes on the parchment looked very much like his own potions textbooks but neater. There was a section of the book where the pages were muggle paper, and he flipped through the book, noticing how Potter's handwriting went from the untidy scrawl usually seen on her essays and homework, to neat block letters, to loopy joint letters and then a neat and elegant script that flowed across the page like water. There were notes on muggle and magical subjects alike (mostly DADA, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Potions, Chemistry, Biology, Muggle and Magical History and Law).

Then there were the sketches. There were the drawings that showed the abuse from her so called family over the years, one that stuck in his memory pictured Saint Potter herself lying in a pool of blood with black feathered wings sprouting from her shoulder blades, tearing her school blouse. There was the one of a Raven and a Bat dancing in flames. _Fiendfyre? No. Potter's Grades are mediocre at best, she wouldn't know about such a spell. But there are a lot of notes on curses… she has even created her own._ Quite a lot of them depicted Hogwarts, there were the Theshrals by the oaf Hagrid's cabin, all her little lion friends, the Ravenclaw laughing stock with her radish earrings and butterbeer cork necklace, Dumbledore with his twinkling eyes, Mcgonagall as a cat with glasses and her witches hat. She had also drawn himself. Sweeping into the dungeon classroom (with robes billowing majestically), Trying to ignore the Headmaster's cheerful rambling and offer of sherbet lemons (when had she seen that?) and surrounded by books (some open, others stacked precariously high) and potions ingredients in one of the many labs in the dungeons.

He closed the book and set it on the table. How had he not noticed? Now that he thought about it, Potter always wore long sleeves and leggings up until her Third year, when they were taught glamour charms, concealment charms and notice-me-not charms. He watched her a lot in the next weeks. She always seemed a little too cheerful, then sometimes her personality would do a one-eighty flip. One moment she was all happy and bubbly then the next her radiant eyes dulled and she started hiding behind her bangs. Severus noticed a lot of things he didn't before because he let his hatred for James Charlus Potter blind him, and whenever he uncovered something new it would only serve to give him even more questions. He didn't notice when the hate and loathing in his gaze turned into intrigue curiosity and a certain softness. Not until she was gone and he found himself constantly continuing to stare at the now empty spot next to Granger. He had kept the invisibility cloak, the parchment with an insulting charm on it, her wand and the notebook before a raving mad and incandescent Molly Weasley burned the rest of her things. Maybe it was his imagination but he swore he saw Mcgonagall smirking at him on more than one occasion.

~Flashback End~

Souvmarche – Souvenir (mind or memory) Marcheur (French for walker)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **Sorry this came so late! I'll probably have more time to write once summer holidays come around but I suppose you all will have to get used to this once the new term starts. Sorry for any grammar errors or typos in the chapters, I suck a proofreading and Microsoft Word keeps changing my words to the American spelling (I use the British Spelling). (I feel like I am apologizing a lot… I'll stop now)**

 **Galaxystar of Solarclan**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

 _ **Incantations**_

 _Thoughts_

Book Titles

~Flashback/Dream~

–

The lightning bolt scar I bear on my forehead has split open. Blood runs down my face, staining the bedsheets red. The scar had started throbbing a bit after dinner started, I can probably match the faces to the names as I remember that much but this bloody scar is really becoming a major annoyance. For some reason I can't explain, every time this happens I hear something – someone calling my name. I have had dreams where I am in the body of another, though I am never in control. It seems almost as if these are the memories of another though I can never recall them clearly. Perhaps they are…

~Dream~

The Humongous walrus of a man is standing over the girl. He looks vaguely like the one from my memories. I cannot recall much about what life was like in the house, behind closed doors, only my time at school and a few social events. The unknown person has a belt in his hand, striking my – her back. She is crying and no one is coming, the two other occupants of the wretched house are hiding behind the stairwell. One has both hands pressed over his or her mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his gleeful giggling, the other does not bother to repress a smile. They are laughing while she is hurting. The human walrus is saying something about justice and freaks. _I know not of the events that transpired in this household before now, or whenever now is but I know one thing: this is not justice. This is vengeance. For what, I know not and I fear I will never know. This is spite. I am, she is different from them and they hate her for it._

–

Now the girl is speaking to a snake. They both confide in each other about stresses, achievements and exchange jokes. The snake, which I have now identified as an adder is currently retelling the time he had hunted down an entire family of rabbits when they come. The conversation is cut off by a younger version of the walrus, an infant killer whale. His cronies hold her back while the ringleader slowly kills the little snake. Now she is crying out for her friend but he is not there. Now no one is there for her. The bullies turn on their victim and start laughing, teasing, beating her. Her cries for mercy ring in my ears as I am pulled away. _Why is no one coming?_

–

She appears to be eleven now. The sorting hat has been placed upon her head, saying she could be great in Slytherin house. The witch is pleading not to be sorted into the house of snakes, saying that she does not want to be a freak in both worlds. I sigh. _This is why muggles should not be introduced to our world! Everyone would call for our severed heads on silver platters, they would experiment on us, enslave us, or just wipe us out with those destructive weapons they have at their disposal. This is why good little girls and good little boys do not survive! They are too weak to kill and maim things in their path, they are chained down by morals. Whereas the "bad guys" win because they act on what they believe is right. Good little girls do not get love because they are too pathetic to earn it._ The hat opens its "mouth" and shouts out "GRYFFINDOR!" I smile a bit. _Good luck, little serpent. I feel – fear that you will need it in the future._

–

Her friends have apparently been endangered because of her. Now she is in an empty classroom crying over how they had almost died. She casts a sound muffling charm _(she must be advanced, that is in the third to fourth year syllabus)_ on the door and takes out a blade. _Is she doing what I think she is?_ And starts drawing it over her skin, making swirls and patterns. She lets out a breath in relief. For some reason I cannot explain, I am able to listen to her thoughts now. _"It's my fault, all my fault! Why could I not control my hero complex? I am a freak, I am worthless, I am an abomination, I am just like Aunt says I am! Would she accept me if I hurt myself? She likes it when Uncle beats me, right? Would she accept me if I were Muggle?_

–

Second year. Turns out the girl is a Parselmouth like I. That means she is either decended from the Gaunt or the Peverell family. The school has been whispering about her being a dark witch for a while. I do wonder what year this took place in; no one, even the Parselmouth girl has a face that does not look like I were looking through an unfocused digital camera. The same goes for dates, calendars and the like. She suspects one of her friends is opening the Chamber of Secrets indirectly, and feels bad about it. Personally, I think she is right to trust her instincts. I'm frowning, and wondering… _What else has happened in the past to make her unable to trust herself?_

–

I am given just a glimpse of the next scene. Next to the unconscious form of a redhead girl the scared yet collected second year pulls a scythe and a short sword from the tattered sorting hat. She uses the scythe to wound the Basilisk and tear a fang from the mouth, coating both blades in poison. She swings the weapon and kills the Basilisk then proceeds to throw the sword like a spear towards the little black diary on the ground, destroying it. _Is this the reasoning behind my wand core?_ She seems to have taken a liking to the scythe, naming it Icaro and spelling it into another black notebook in the form of a coloured sketch.

–

The witch is fourteen now, listening to some parents coo over how kind, patient, brave, just their child is. _Ha! Kindness is only Compliance, Patience is simple Idleness, Bravery is Audacity and so called Justice is only Vengeance._ It appears her own "friends" have abandoned her in a time of need for their narrow minded views. I watch as she takes a deep breath and walks out of a tent into an arena with a Hungarian Horntail staring her down. She simply stares back for a while, before she starts drawing runes on various rocks. I take a closer look at the ink she uses before realising it is blood. The dragon foolishly believes the girl is no harm due to her size (Morgana, she looks like a 11-year-old!) and sits back, observing. She draws a somewhat detailed outline of the dragon inside of the rune circle and starts chanting in a medley of French, Italian and Latin. I watch as the dragon enters a trance like state and soon an apparition of marionette strings appears above the creature. This is one of the closest things to the imperious curse without it being classified as dark.

The crowd is still gaping at her as she stalks out of the arena without bothering to look at her scores, her dress shoes making a tapping sound against the stone pathways.

–

Now she is in the form of a beaked sea snake thanks to an accidental bit of parselmagic (Her original plan was consuming Gillyweed a House elf acquired for her.). She swims with strong whips of the tail and soon reaches a statue with four people tied to it surrounded by merpeople. She bites through some of the ropes, freeing a redheaded male. She is about to take off after two other people with hostages but considers the blonde girl still tied to the statue. She sighs as well as one can whilst in the form of a snake and takes the other girl as well.

Before they reach the surface she turns back into a human with some trial and error (really, did she not think of how she was to change back?) and is met with tremulous applause. She was the second to reach the surface, the first being a Hufflepuff male I don't recognize but feel like I should know. She has gotten extra points for morality. She should be happy, but when I look at her slumped figure she just looks empty.

–

Cedric, the Hufflepuff – whose name was revealed when his parents shouted it out – and her are in a graveyard. The poor boy is screaming his lungs out; he has been under the cruciatus for a while now. There are other bodies littered around the graveyard: three muggles who were attracted by the sound of screaming and immediately killed by a plump man with a strange taint to his magic, Stanley Shunpike who had recognized the sound of curses being thrown and Rosemerta Summers who had been the one to call the knight bus after an apparition incident.

Cedric is screaming for the mercy of death. I can see the girl gasp and pick her wand up. She casts a _**diffindo**_ at the rat like man who is torturing Cedric but due to the shaking of her hand she ends up slicing a deep gash through his stomach. A gasp of horror as the blood splashes on her hands. The girl makes no move. Simply staring in horror and guilt as the blood stains her hands and shoes. He is almost drained of his blood before he pulls a variety of potions from a pocket, consumes them and apparates away. Cedric is in too much pain for he has suffered an internal injury too grievous to heal. She turns to face him as well as she can and holds her wand out in front of her. She whispers an apology and that she does not want him to suffer. Then the unforgivable words come out of her mouth. _**"Avada Kedavra"**_

–

"…you are hereby condemned to a lifetime sentence in Azkaban for the murder of Cedric Diggory, Bathilda Bagshot, Stanley Shunpike, Rosemerta Summers and 9 unidentified muggles." I very nearly scream in outrage. Accused for simply ending someone's suffering! Yes, she almost did kill the rat like man but I had noticed that tainted aura around him, signifying that he was set up to die before the dawn of the next day, most likely by whomever was brought back from a limbo like state. A family of platinum blondes had clearly disapproved of putting a minor within the walls of wizarding Hell but had been silenced before the trial and therefore were unable to defend her. They stand unnoticed by all at the back of the room, not even by the defendant, who seems to be trying to sift through thoughts and emotions. A black haired man bearing a striking resemblance to a bat had tried to press for Veritaserum but had also been threatened. I notice he reaches into his robes every now and then and runs his hand over a cloak, a notebook, a blank roll of parchment and a wand as if reassuring himself they remain intact. The family of redheads and a taller man with grey-blue eyes were glaring daggers at the defendant as she is led by Dementors and Aurors alike out of the courtroom.

The now-prisoner is prodded rather rudely through winding hallways and corridors, one of which is covered in mirrors. I finally get a look at the girls' reflection as they-we walk past the mirrors. I freeze in shock.

The girl – she is me.

–

I sigh. This is the point where all the memories flee from me like water through my fingers only to come back and wrack my body with spasms when I see something – someone familiar. Even so, the cyclone of silver never fails to mesmerise me. As one of the cloaked creatures swoops down on me I am forced to give in to the dizzying blackness.

~Dream~

I wake up drenched in sweat with a short scream. What did I dream of? I don't remember yet I know enough to know that the "Order of the Phoenix" is not telling the complete truth. I smack my head lightly at not figuring it out after watching so many of them stumble over simple information about my past.

I pace around the room. I could probably create a different identity as a homeschooled muggleborn witch whose home was destroyed in a natural disaster. I'd call myself Rosita… Rosita Huang. With a common Chinese surname, no one would suspect if I preferred neutrality, after all the Chinese Wizarding World was all about peace and balance, Yin and Yang. No wonder they had very few disagreements… 99.99% of the wizards wielded Grey magic. If I changed the shape of my eyes and got muggle contacts in a dark chocolate brown I would look the part and as for the resemblance to the Black and Peverell families I could easily say a member of the family was disowned and married into the Huang family and I was the first magical. It did happen if the ratio of muggle to magical blood was very high. It happened to my mother apparently.

Now I have an outline of a plan. I suppose I could sneak around in my raven form so if I am found out I have another alter ego to fall back on. Tomorrow I can get myself into Hogsmeade with a Portkey and make my animagus form known to the staff, villagers and students who will no doubt be enjoying the transition from spring to summer. I should give my animagus from a name rather than simply calling it "my animagus form" Hopefully the people will assume I had an owner in the past… "Vesna" I decide. And with the knowledge of my plan and images of beautiful night skies in my mind I drift off to the Realm of Dreams

–

Vesna – "Messenger" in Slavic. Chosen because the Raven is a messenger between the heavens.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 **There will be Chinese characters in this chapter and probably the future chapters. You don't need to worry about copying and pasting it into Google Translate (or whatever you use to translate things), all of the meanings and translations will be at the end of the chapter as they always are. For the POV's from now I'll try to stick to 2-3 chapters in Ashling's POV then one in Hermione's POV and then Severus. And just if you were wondering: the whole Fae inheritance thing plays a bigger part in future chapters (when she finds out more about the Fae history) but most info will be made up. (sorry… I didn't have a lot of ideas for this chapter and kept rewriting it.)**

 **Galaxystar of SolarClan**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

 _ **Incantations**_

 _Thoughts_

Text on Parchment

~Flashback/Dream~

–

I wake up just before the sun has fully risen and decide to expand on my plan a bit more. To make my "Rosita Huang" persona more believable and to avoid association with both Ashling Potter and the Black family – for I resemble Dorea and Iris Euphemia Black more than anybody has anticipated without the disgraceful mop every Potter's hair is – I could change only the distinctive features of my face (eye colour) to make it less obvious. The reason being many people would think I would change my appearance to the polar opposite of my current appearance if I were to run away and that a considerable amount of the Chinese wizarding population has black hair and brown eyes ranging from copper, a light hazel to a brown so dark you can't even make out the pupils. As for my wings, I know a transfiguration charm to transform them into a tattoo that I can move to any part of my body.

I decide on dark chocolate brown muggle contacts I will charm to merge with my cornea without harming it and after a little deliberation my spare purple glasses from a muggle brand store (How do I remember the incantation to summon them from a pocket of space and not my home life?). I use a glamour to make my eyes appear brown and make myself a little shorter as I would be too noticeable at my regular height and am slightly taken aback at how different I look. With the glasses no one will suspect and I will not have to have Molly place a charm on my eyes to see clearly (as I declined an eye drop to fix my vision instantly). The spare glasses I held onto all my life have transparent purple plastic for the rectangular frames and on the sides of the arms a darker purple with the words "Armani Exchange" printed repeatedly in silver as a pattern.

It's lucky that I seem to have decided to take up learning the Chinese language at a young age after hearing it was one of the most widely spoken languages on the planet. One of the first things that came to memory and stayed there was that I have knowledge of Chinese and basic Spanish. Maybe Rosita could slip up often and revert to her "first language" to make them buy the Chinese Muggleborn act. I look into the mirror with the purple glasses on my face and smile slightly. "你好，我的名字是黃隱藏！很高興見到你！"

–

Hermione comes an hour or so later and informs me that Molly is currently preparing breakfast. "Thank you, Hermione Granger. I shall accompany you to the kitchen, shall I?" As she has done numerous times last night, she seems saddened and a little put off by the formal tone I constantly adopt. _Did I not always speak this way? It is the only way I remember the words roll off of my tongue._

Molly, Arthur Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks are present in the kitchen when Hermione and I walk in. As has become a habit of hers Molly piles copious amounts of food onto a plate and then hands it to me. I nibble on a piece of bacon and listen as Molly starts a rant about which parts of the house still need to be cleaned out. After a while Fred, George and Ronald amble in yawning. Or rather, Ronald is yawning and the twins are expertly stifling their laughter – they appear to have placed a substance in his pillow the night before to give their brother a ridiculously large afro with all the colours in the colour spectrum and little pink unicorns hopping through the curly disaster.

Upon seeing Ronald his parents shake their heads, exasperated while Hermione is pressing her lips together halfway through disapproval and amusement. Nymphadora grins and shoots Fred and George a thumbs up and it is like a dam has broken; everyone is bent over of rolling on the floor chortling all while the source of their amusement looks around bewildered. He finally glances over to a mirror which was placed there from the last clean up session ("You inept, filthy blood traitors will never look as beautiful as my true, _pureblooded_ mistress!") and I swear I hear his jaw hit the ground. He then proceeds to draw his wand and chases the prankster duo all over the place waking up all the other occupants of the house.

When the twins have been hit with numerous stinging hexes and a Bat-Bogey hex from Ginevra for waking her up they finally calm down and make their way to the table panting and grinning. After breakfast the twins and Ronald are frog marched to a doxy infested room where they are given sprays to immobilise the little creatures. The girls are given the task of going through all the jewellery and testing them for hexes and jinxes. Meanwhile Molly pulls me aside "Sweetheart, I know you must still feel weak and at least a tad overwhelmed, so please don't exert yourself, alright? In two days we have arranged for you to meet a Healer for a check-up and a Mind Healer who specialises in wizards who have come into contact with those terrible Dementors." I simply nod, asking if I may assist the other girls and am released with the condition to not tire myself, to please, please be careful as I may hurt myself and to go to her as soon as I feel unwell. I feel myself grin a little as Molly's worried eyes follow me up the landing to the master bedroom. I should keep in mind that they probably mean well even if they are keeping things from me. Hell, even the Dark Lord everyone whispers about when I appear to be not listening probably has his motives. At least this Dark Lord fights and works for what he believes is right instead of complaining and pulling faces expecting the world to bend to his will.

It is quite comforting to make small talk with Ginevra and Hermione. Currently they are trying to convince me to call them "Ginny and 'Mione" Ronald rushed into the room to escape the madhouse that is the drawing room a while ago and has somehow managed to fall asleep. I really do not have any objections but it's amusing to watch the redhead complain that she feels like she is being scolded. I absently pick up two lockets that are almost identical. Both of them have a geometrical shape and an emerald green snake forming the letter "S" although one seems to give out a darker, more powerful aura and resists attempts to open it. I pocket both of them.

"How do I look?" I'm pulled out of my voice by Hermione's voice calling to me. I look over and giggle a bit. It's nice to see someone who obviously takes her job and studies seriously relaxing every once in a while; the bushy haired girl has ridiculously big gems around her neck, wrists and on her fingers, she has donned a gothic veil probably belonging to Walburga Black and adopted a stuck up, stuffy look. "Perfect, almost as repulsive as the portrait banshee." Is my reply. As if on cue, the portrait of said person starts shrieking right at that moment waking Ronald in the process.

"BLOOD TRAITORS, MUDBLOODS, SCUM OF THE EARTH! HOW DARE YOU INHABIT _MY_ HOUSE, HOW DARE YOU WALK ON _MY_ LAND, HOW DARE–" She is cut off by Sirius. We all look at each other in a silent agreement to sneak down and see what has happened and it is almost as if we have been doing this all our lives. Even if we are all of age Molly still thinks we are too young for some topics.

Just by the door, Sirius is grumbling about people ringing he doorbell and setting off his mother while Molly is ushering Professor Dumbledore in. Ginevra pulls out an invention made by her brothers for their joke shop called extendable ears and gives each of us one. When they have successfully snuck underneath the kitchen door we hear the Headmasters' voice loud and clear though he is whispering. "I am afraid only Ashling will be able to destroy him" _Destroy who? That Dark Lord?_ Molly gasps. "But – Albus! Surely if You-Know-Who has done a ritual or something keeping him alive anyone could neutralise the effects!" "Be as that may if this ritual uses a part of Voldemort–" Sirius, who has been silent the entire time suddenly knocks over a chair probably while standing up and shouting about how I'm too young for this. Then he storm out muttering about how life isn't fair and we have to retract the extendable ears to avoid detection.

–

I escaped to my room saying that I needed a nap. Ronald simply resumed his nap in the master bedroom. Echoes of the conversation are still in my head. I shake my head. No time to think about that now. I summon a silver sickle from my trunk that was a gift from Nymphadora and whisper the incantation while holding the image of the leaky caldroun in my mind " _ **Portus**_ " with a flash the sickle gains a slight sheen to it. I grab it and close my eyes through the strange sensation. If the muggles notice anything change, they don't show it. I quickly open the entrance to Diagon Alley and slip into a fairly new shop called "Lucy's Lenses" where I purchase the tinted contact lenses I need. Then I create a Portkey to Hogsmeade. Nobody should recognise Vesna so getting to Hogwarts and perhaps the Gamekeepers hut will not be a problem.

–

Hagrid is a nice person, I decide. I overheard a few students calling him a barbarian probably out of fear but when he sighted me, first asked if I was lost and would I like to stay with him for a while. After dipping my beak in ink to write my name down, with a lot of hopping and charades I convinced him that I had an owner in the past. Hagrid is not the brightest bulb in the box (as Muggles say) but he is kind and will stand up for those he cares about.

When I flew by Hagrid told me that he had gathered a small group of students who were either interested in jobs concerning the handling of magical creatures or were first to second years who liked to listen to him talk and get a head start in the subject. Idly listening to Hagrid humouring the children with tales of the many magical creatures he has met, domesticated and raised I find myself drifting off until a blonde first year asks a question that nearly makes me fall off my perch.

"You taught _the_ Ashling Potter, right? Can you please, please tell us about her?"

–

"你好，我的名字是黃隱藏！很高興見到你！"

– Hello, my name is Rosita Huang! It's very nice to meet you!

黃隱藏 – Huang is a common Chinese surname but is also the word used to say "yellow" 隱藏 translates to "hide"


End file.
